


Closer

by QueenoftheHobbits



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: F/M, the boat scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 22:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11610129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheHobbits/pseuds/QueenoftheHobbits
Summary: Boats do get quite cold in British waters.





	Closer

Themyscira was never cold; warm, sunny, always the perfect weather and perfect temperature. But this place, this stretch of sea that Steve had called the ‘English Channel’ it was blindingly cold. The wind that helped them sail forward also kept her shaking beneath her cloak. 

Steve has settled down beside her for the night as well, curled up in that massive coat of his, back to her, huddled to the side of the boat as if that would somehow put more distance between the two of them. She did not understand his peoples ways, the distance between man and woman. The way he acted she was sure was his attempt at being respectful, but nonetheless she hated it. She was cold. So very cold that she was sure she would turn blue and lose feeling in her limbs. 

“Steve?” She prayed that he was still awake and while she knew that what she wished to request of him would make him stumble with his words and attempt to avoid such a thing she had logic on her side. To any soldier logic always bested propriety.

“Yeah?” It was groggy sounding and did men’s voices always go deeper like that when they were tired? She liked the sound, but perhaps only from him. She hadn’t met any other men and from the fight on the beach she was sure that she would not like all of them the same way that she did Steve Trevor. 

“I’m cold. Come closer.” 

“Diana...you know that’s not..” He’s already fumbling with his words as he turns around to face her. He looks just as cold as she does, his cheeks tinged red, his skin pale. 

“We will both freeze to death over your silly rules then?” She pretends to be angry at him, turns her back to him and stares at the wooden side of the boat. She does know that Steve has a desire to keep her happy or at least not angry. Whether that’s because of what she can do or simply because he doesn’t wish to upset her, she isn’t sure. But she knows it will work in her favour. 

“Goddamn it...” She has heard him say this particular phrase before, when he struggles to tie the ropes, or hurts his fingers, or in this case is aware that he must do something that all his silly little rules tell him not to.

The truth is Steve Trevor might have been a good guy, but he wasn’t a good man by every standard set by society. He drank too much. He certainly slept with unmarried women. He swore and cursed and he was a soldier. A dirty soldier, pilot or not, spy or not, doing work that helped countries or not. People, polite society, they didn’t like Steve Trevor he wasn’t a good man by their rule book. So trying to be was really in vain. 

He tried, he really did. To not get too close, to not break those boundaries that she didn’t even know about nor care about. But the fact was that she was right. It was freezing and silly rules shouldn’t stop him correcting that...it was more than just the rules though. He knew he was attracted to her. The way she fought, the way she moved, the way she spoke, the smile she gave him upon him waking up on that beach. She was beautiful and strong and could easily break him in half...and it was one thing to curl together for warmth, it was another thing to want to do that because she was beautiful. 

So despite every part of his brain telling him that it’s a terrible idea to move behind her and huddle for warmth, he does it anyway. She hears him shuffling, the movement of his coat across wood towards her. She feels him mere inches away from her and yet he still won’t touch her. It is frustrating beyond all belief and she is fed up of these silly rules and silly ideas that he has. She wants him to be more Themysciran, more willing to touch, to be open. 

Still cold she reaches behind her and pulls him towards her, it is an awkward angle at which to do such a thing, but she moves him relatively easily despite his flailing and draws his arm around her waist. 

“2 inches away is not going to keep me warm.” She explains willing the tension she can feel in his body away and finding that after a few moments he does relax. She is not sure what he expects her to do to him, is that tension some fear that touch will inherently lead to pleasures of the flesh or is it because he isn’t sure what is appropriate or not around her. 2 different cultures colliding. 

She is grateful when he pulls himself tighter to her, he's warm, ever so warm and she suspects that men must run hotter than women because he is so warm that she almost worries he might be ill. She is grateful for the small physical comfort of someone holding her, even if it is under the pretence of being warm.

As much as she wants to deny the pull she has to Steve Trevor, she still wants him closer and she is unsure how to handle such a feeling when his world dictates distance and hers dictates openness. 


End file.
